


A little bit Genghis Khan

by FifthLegionFulminata



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: M/M, also, hurt the bbs, hurt them a lot, i have more, sorry - Freeform, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FifthLegionFulminata/pseuds/FifthLegionFulminata
Summary: This is based off of Randomdraggons's Genghis Khan art. Its got super-spy Eiffel, and villain Hilbert. Hope ya like it.





	1. Chapter 1

Eiffel was nervous. He had been working at the Agency for years, yes, but dealing with a certain villain made butterflies in his stomach. Every one knew about Cutter, the cold-hearted son of a bitch who ran Goddard Enterprises. He was a real piece of work- this psycho-pants had murdered Agents who bothered him before, so when Eiffel found out that he had a new recruit working in his employ he found himself pretty freakin’ nervous. Whoever they were, they had to be just as cold a bastard as Cutter was, and it was Eiffel’s shitty job to find out as much as he could about him and why Cutter wanted him. Eiffel turned to the projected face on the screen, his face a grimace of anxiety, and tried to smile. “Heeyy, baby. What have you got for me today?” Hera’s ghostly image flickered briefly, but she was smiling reassuringly when she came back on. “Oh, you know. Just the usual data that you’ll forget to look at, the memo from Minkovski asking you to cut your hair or she’ll do it for you, and the n-new info about Cutter’s new employee.” Eiffel groaned, leaning back on his chair’s hind legs and tossing a pencil into the air. “Minkowski needs to leave my hair out of this, I’ll have you know that it is my most attractive feature! Ladies and gents alike flock to see my wavy tresses, so hell no I’m not gonna cut it!” In his indignation, he leans to far back and lands flat on his back, the air leaving his lungs with a “woof.” “Agent Eiffel! Are you okay??” Hera cries, trying to move her projection around his desk so she can check on him. “The only thing… wounded… is my dignity.” “I would think so, not that you had much of that in the first place.” “Min-Minkowski! What a.. pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?” Eiffel cranes his neck to look at her, grinning up from his spot on the floor. “Well, for starters, you can get up off the floor.” Minkovski has a stern, but amused, look on her face as Eiffel flops around to get out of the chair and on his feet again. He straightens, pulling his loose hair back into a bun, and dusts himself off with as much dignity as he can muster. “So, job number one is done, now what can I do ya for?” 

Minkovski walks to Hera’s projector, trying not to laugh at Eiffel’s attempt to be dignified, and scans her retina at the identification hub. Hera blips out, and her projection is replaced by a series of data files on three different men. Dmitri Volodin, Elias Selburg, and Alexander Hilbert. As Eiffel approaches the projection, he realizes that they aren’t three different men after all, they’re the same man at different stages of his life. A fresh-faced but stoic teenager, a hollow-eyed young man, and a stern looking adult. All three wear glasses, all three have short and wild red-brown hair, and they all look like they’ve seen and done some horrible, horrible things. He shivers a little at the most recent image, as the cynical looking man stares directly into the camera like he can see Eiffel and is disappointed by him. “This,” Minkovski gestures at the projection, “Is Cutter’s new B.F.F., a Mister Alexander Hilbert. Or, at least, thats what he calls himself now. He was once Dmitri Volodin, born in Soviet Russia. Exact date is unknown, as he is the last living member of the Volodin family. All of them died when he was around 7, and the authorities didn’t even know about his existence before he was 12. By the age of 16 he’d already entered college and started his degree on viral biology. He briefly worked for the Kremlin before defecting to the US, under the name Selburg. While using the alias Selburg he made a name for himself as a genius virologist with a taste for human experimentation, but he fell off the face of the Earth around two years ago. Now hes back, using the name Hilbert, and even worse hes working for Goddard Enterprises under Cutter’s direct command. Obviously we’re a little nervous. We’ve decided that you would be best to handle him, mainly due to your familiarity with Cutter’s methods and your totally empty schedule.” Eiffel begins flailing his hands in panic, like hes trying to ward off Minkovski’s words. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” His voice is shrill as he grows frantic in his attempt to convince Minkovski’s mind. “Why the hell would command put ME in charge, I can’t even balance in a chair right much less deal with Comrade Communicative Diseases! What makes you think I can do this?! And I’ll have you know I am a VERY busy man!” Minkovski slams her hand down on Eiffel’s shoulder, apparently attempting to be reassuring and failing completely. “Its not me that says so, its the big wigs. I have no control in this decision, but you’ll do fine, Eiffel. You’re just gonna break into his labs and copy some of his papers and then bring the copies back. If he’s got anything of interest we’ll continue to monitor him from afar. It’s a piece of cake, I promise. Scout’s honor.” Eiffel relaxes slightly, relieved momentarily, before actually processing her words. “Wait, I gotta break in to HIS LAB?! WHERE HE KEEPS HIS DISEASES?!” Minkovski grins viciously. “Yep, and you’re gonna do it tomorrow night! He’s supposed to be speaking to Cutter tomorrow, and you know how long that megalomanic talks. It’s fiiiine, you’ll do great! You gotta start sometime!” Eiffel’s confidence in Minkowski plummets to new lows, but theres no way he can convincingly shirk this responsibility. Hera chatters away after Minkovski leaves and Eiffel reactivates her projection, mostly about random things the other AI’s are talking about in a transparent attempt at distracting him. 

He appreciates the thought, but most of the other AIs are talking about the pros and cons of binary and he really can’t follow half of that nonsense. Tomorrow comes too soon, and Eiffel is desperately trying to be calm and collected while shaking in his boots. He’s done this before, in training, but most of the time he’s just eye candy in the office and there for everyone’s benefit. Hes never actually done it forealsies before. He considered calling in sick before seeing the note Minkowski left on his desk that morning: ‘Don’t call me pretending to be sick. I’m not gonna fall for it this time. Good luck! Try not to get caught! ~M’ Eiffel wishes desperately he hadn’t wasted those days where Minkowski still trusted him, when things were perfect and she was still gullible. But, alas, theres no time to waste. Its now or never. Hilbert’s car has just left his compound, and his guards have relaxed now that he’s gone. Eiffel slips in through a ventilation shaft and crawls through a vent into a broom closet which is full of random fluid removal stuff, like kitty litter and bleach. He shudders before creeping through the door into the hallway, checking each door and corner as fast and quietly as he can. After five tense minutes, he finds Hilbert’s office and stops in his tracks. Its a freakin’ mess, how the hell does this guy find anything?! Theres papers stacked everywhere, books thrown about in random towers, and machine bits scattered on every open surface. Its gonna take weeks to get through all this crap, and he can’t tell whats important and whats not. Eiffel groans mentally, and quickly goes to the nearest stack of books, snapping photos of the titles and the pages that some are open too. His spends his last ten minutes scanning the top page of every stack of paper, whether its a grocery list or not. He makes one final sweep for anything that seems important before leaving the way he came, his heart pounding the whole time. When he gets back to base, Minkovski is waiting for him. “Hey, I told you you could do it! And look at all the stuff you scanned, you did great! You’re gonna have to go back though, of course.” Eiffel sighs dramatically, pretending to languish in a chair. “But Minkowskiiiiii, I’m siiiick. Cough. Cough cough.” Minkovski smacks him upside the head without even looking at him ignoring his whiny “Owwww.” and pawing through the pages of data hes scanned. She hums in approval over the pictures of Hilbert’s choice of reading material, but sighs at the end of all the images he could gather. Eiffel is napping in his chair, snoring lightly, and when she kicks the leg of it he sits up quickly and blusters. “So, how about that one in the middle? Suuuper interesting, riiight?” Minkovski tries not to smile at the gall of it, and nods. “Oh, it was real interesting, Eiffel. What do you think was the most important part of that paper?” Eiffel blanches, looking panicked. “Uhh, the most important part?” “Yes, Eiffel. What do you think was the most valuable thing about it?” “Um…the pictures…?” Minkovski laughs outright, shaking her head. “Thats what I thought. Well, you did get some interesting stuff, even if you slept through most of me going through it. It looks like Hilbert is researching the native plants of Northern America and something about “radioactive ions from dwarf stars?’ I dunno what he’s going to be using that info for, but whatever it is I’m suspicious of it. You’re gonna go back in five days, he’ll be gone for two days this time so you won’t have to rush so much. It’ll be a lot easier this time now that you know the layout. I’ll have Hera send me the important images, you get some rest and get prepared, okay?” She ruffles his hair as she leaves the room, and Eiffel sighs with relief and immediately goes back to sleep on his desk. 

In the five days leading up to his next attempt, Minkowski is adamant that he take at least a few ‘just in case’ gadgets, like couple of smoke grenades disguised as breathmints and a pocket knife that doubles as a taser. She fusses over him like a mother hen when she sees how nervous he still is, frequently making his knees buckle under her ten-ton shoulder pat and trying to make him eat every time he looks a little pale. She also tries to sneak in and cut his hair while he’s sleeping, but she gives up when he tries to bite her. Once again the day arrives, and he slips through the ventilation shaft just like before. As he’s sneaking into Hilbert’s office, however, he notices that its pitch black inside. The next, more pressing thing he notices is someone grabbing him by the hair and twisting his arm behind his back in one sudden, swift motion. Hes slammed face first into the wall, his scalp screaming in pain and its all he can do to not actually scream as his shoulder is nearly wrenched out of it’s socket. The person whose holding him says something in Russian and the lights flick on, but all Eiffel can see of them is a dark silhouette out of the corner of his eye. “Hmph,” the shadow says, twisting his arm a little more and pulling his hair harder. “Did you really think you could come into my lab and I would not notice? That I would not have dozens of camera throughout this room, that I would not have even more in the ventilation shaft you favor? I have been waiting for rat to try to sneak back in. Did not anticipate rat would have so many openings.” He, it was obvious from his low voice that he was a he, turns Eiffel around in one brutal motion, letting go of his arm and hair only to slam a hand against his throat. In his shock Eiffel can only think, ‘Damn, he’s strong for a scientist. Oh. He grew a beard.“ Alexander Hilbert is looking at him with the impassivity of someone who no longer cares what happens to other people. Hes older than the last picture they have of him, but he hasn’t lost the messy hair and glasses, nor his stoic expression. His figure could be described as 'trim but stocky, medium build.’ Hes actually about Eiffel’s height, now that he thinks about it. Eiffel’s critique on Hilbert is abruptly cut short when Hilbert squeezes tighter on his neck, adjusting his grip so his fingers press on the pounding artery in his neck. “Suppose I should just kill rat and be done with it, da? Apologies, is nothing personal. Merely principle. Knew Agency would send someone, knew that someone could not be allowed to investigate.” Eiffel’s mind panics as his vision begins to fade, and in the next moment Hilbert has let go of him as if he’s been burned and Eiffel is holding his knife in one hand. He collapses, gasping for air, as Hilbert studies him warily, clutching his side as blood seeps through his fingers. He doesn’t seem to even notice the injury, he seems more interested in studying Eiffel with apparent respect. Eiffel has the presence of mind to break one of the smoke bomb tablets before Hilbert recovers and in the ensuing cloud he staggers out of the office, trying to make it to the exit as quickly as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

When Eiffel returns to HQ, he immediately rushes to the trashcan in the lobby and throws up, trembling. One of the secretaries at the desk hurries off to get someone, and the other makes him sit down and drink a bottle of water while making sympathetic noises. Minkovski takes one look at him when she walks in and quickly takes him to her office. “What the hell happened, Eiffel? You look terrible- holy shit what the hell happened your neck?!” He collapses into a chair and runs a shaky hand through his hair while avoiding her gaze. “I, uh, made a mistake.” His voice is a painful croak, and she winces in sympathy while digging through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom connected to her office. He watches her, like hes afraid of letting her out of sight. “Hey, you mind if I connect Hera? She’s probably worried about me.” Minkovski knows why he wants Hera in the room but doesn’t argue, she’d had a couple of near-death experiences before and she knew what a comfort it was, having an AI monitor every room you walk into for a while. She finds what shes looking for while he accesses the ID hub, whispering the process code to allow Hera to swap terminals for as long as they’ll allow it. “Eiffel! What happened to you?!” “I almost died, no biggie. I gotta new lease on life, though, thanks to Minkowski’s mother-henning.” He tries for a weak laugh but gives up when it hurts too much, flinching when Minkovski puts her hand on his wrenched shoulder a little too hard. “Oh, sorry! Here, take these for right now then go see Medical as soon as we’re done here, okay?” Eiffel takes the painkillers with relief, and without needing to be asked launches into a bare bones description of what happened. “Hilbert was still there, the intel was wrong. He knew I’d broken in, and he was waiting for me. Doctor Schwarzenegger was nooot happy, the bastard almost murdered me! Dude is freakin strong for a science nerd.” Minkovski makes note of the incident, and comes to a swift decision. “I’m taking you off surveillance and putting it on hold for a while, Eiffel. We’ll give him time to get complacent. You go home and rest, okay?” He doesn’t argue, dropping by Medical and letting them fuss over him before heading to his apartment. 

It’s a thing of beauty, modern-style with stainless steel counters and marble floors. His favorite thing, however, is his horde of collectibles. Star Wars, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, Firefly, Doctor Who- he even has sets of horror movie lead figurines, his favorite being Frankenstein, and a couple of odd memoribilia from other movies and shows he’s enjoyed. There are movie posters and signed pictures plastered on every wall and towers of cds and records in every corner. He relaxes for the first time since he had his run-in with Hilbert, plugging Hera into his home’s system and allowing her to monitor it from HQ. He sees himself in the mirror after a shower and is frankly appalled. His neck is one massive, hand-print shaped bruise, and his shoulder is mottled and swollen from a torn ligament. He shudders, quickly looking away, and flops onto his bed without turning the lights off. Hes asleep in seconds, but doesn’t stay that way for long. With a ragged gasp he’s sitting bolt upright, panicked, staring wildly around his room like he expects someone to be there. Hera notes his increased heart rate from her terminal and broadcasts soft, soothing music through the speakers wired throughout his house. “You’re the only person in your home, Eiffel. It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep,” she murmers soothingly. He nods, relaxing a little, and falls asleep after a few false starts. This is the rhythm he falls into for the next two weeks: barely sleep, wake up at 4 am, go for a walk. Check messages in case Minkowski needs him, feel disappointed when theres none. Tries to eat, but hes never really hungry. Spend day watching old movies, before trying to sleep again. At the end of the second week, he finally can’t stand it anymore. He marches into Minkowski’s office, frustrated, and launches into a rant. “That commie bastard has been giving me nightmares for weeks now, I can’t hardly eat, I can’t fuckin’ sleep, I’m losing my damn mind from boredom!” Minkowski doesn’t seem at all surprised, instead she shrugs at his rant. “Do you want me to put you back on surveillance and retreival? We’ve been blind as to what the good doctor has been doing while you’ve been recovering.” Eiffel stops pacing, looking at her in surprise, and then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to stick it to this asshole. Put me back in, coach. I’m not gonna let this bastard win, dammit.” This last part is muttered, but Minkovski isn’t surprised at Eiffel’s newfound love for his job. She had felt the same way when she nearly died, throwing herself back into her work to make sure that the monster who nearly killed her would never have the chance to do it again. “Alright, you can start next week. Talk to R and D and get ready, I doubt Hilbert will make it easy this time.” Eiffel is armed to the teeth by the time his next mission begins, and grimly determined to get the intel they need to put Hilbert and Cutter behind bars permanently. 

He scales the wall of Hilbert’s lab, climbing through the open window he spotted from the ground. From there, he makes his way to the basement level where Hilbert’s office is, using a small handheld EMP to take out the cameras throughout. He stops on the threshold of Hilbert’s office when he sees the door open invitingly to a pitch black room. He hesitates, then marches in determined to face this head on. “I don’t know any Russian, so is there a light switch in here or what, Hilby?” He hears someone move, and suddenly the lights are on. Hilbert is leaning against the wall next to a light switch, keeping his distance from Eiffel while watching him carefully. “Ah, you are back. Was wondering, you took so long I was beginning to think I won. Apparently not.” Eiffel bristles, his shoulders coming up in anger as his clenches his fists. Hilbert smirks suddenly, looking amused, and walks toward him quickly. All the anger in Eiffel surges, and he decks Hilbert in the jaw as hard as he can. The only response he gets is a sharp look as he rubs his face, before Hilbert casually grabs his still outstretched hand and turns, throwing Eiffel against his desk and scattering papers everywhere. He watches Eiffel closely, and Eiffel starts up to attack him again before realizing that Hilbert’s throw was simply to create distance between them. He hesitates for a moment when he realizes Hilbert is between him and the door before casually grabbing a handful of papers. “I’m just gonna take these and we’ll call it even, okay Doc?” Hilbert raises an eyebrow, before saying slowly, “And why would I let you leave, much less live?” Eiffel is rifling through the papers, not looking at him, and he speaks with false confidence. “Cause one, the Agency would kill you back if you killed me, and two, you don’t want Cutter to know that I’ve been investigating you.” Hilbert’s expression is strange when he looks up, but Hilbert waves his hand for Eiffel to continue his arguement. “Cutter would kill you if he knew that you’d let even a scrap of paper leave your lab, and I don’t think that you want to take the long walk anytime soon, amiright?” He waits, trying not to admit how freaked out he is knowing that he would likely not make it past Hilbert if he tries to run. Hilbert seems to be considering his words, then he smirks very slightly. “I will make deal, da? If you do not let slip that you have documents from lab, and if you do not die in process, I will allow you to try to take information. One try a day, and if you do not make it to office by end of day you fail. Deal?” Eiffel’s confusion is plain on his face. “Huh? You would just let me break in? Whats the catch? Are you gonna make me your human petri dish?!” Hilbert shrugs, looking at Eiffel with a blank expression. “It will be fun to watch you try, like watching mouse in maze. And niet, no need for human experimentation at this stage. Do we have deal?” Eiffel thinks about it for a moment before nodding, and Hilbert’s only response is to step to one side and gesture to the door in a polite motion. Eiffel wastes no time in leaving, his mind in a flurry, and all he can think is how weird Hilbert is for the sudden change in attitude. 

The next day, during his first attempt, he gets trapped in a net and hung from the ceiling and in trying to cut himself out only to find out that the net is chain wrapped in hemp. After a few hours Hilbert’s guards let him out, laughing, and escort him out the door. The next day, and the next, are all failures- he gets locked in a small room for hours on one day, and the other his foot gets caught in a sort-of bear trap that holds him in place without breaking his bones. To fill the time in between catch and release, Eiffel thinks of the most terrible things he’ll do to Hilbert when he finally makes it to his office again. On the fourth try, however, he actually makes it. Its a near thing, involving an electrical field and pack of dogs, but he’s able to reach Hilbert’s office before the sun goes down. Hilbert looks up from his desk in mild surprise, before smirking at Eiffel’s disheveled appearance and gesturing at the stacks of paper scattered around. He goes back to his work, ignoring Eiffel entirely until Eiffel is leaving. “See you tomorrow, Agent?” “Yeah, yeah. See ya.” Eiffel cannot wrap his head around what Hilbert’s game is. Why on Earth would he just let Eiffel leave with his classified info? Damn crazy Russians. The pattern of pass/fail slowly leans more in Eiffel’s favor over the next month. HQ doesn’t question how he’s able to get all this intel, merely pleased that they have it in the first place, and gradually he gets used to Hilbert’s few expressions, which are as follows: angry, tired, grumpy, sarcastic, and malicious. Hilbert never personally interferes with Eiffel as he fights through to his office, and sometimes when Eiffel finally gets there Hilbert isn’t even there. Eiffel always feels relief on those days, and just to mess with the older man he rearranges his office. Its the little things in life that make you happy. Hilbert gives no indication that he even notices the changes, until one day Eiffel tries to move his desk and realizes it’s been bolted to the floor. So the next time Hilbert is gone Eiffel staples his lab notes to the ceiling. When Hilbert hides those he glues his machine bits to the floor. As a result of Eiffel’s pranks, Hilbert’s traps get a little more vindictive. Lasers that are just strong enough to hurt like hell, electrified walls, snake pits. Things fall into a strange but familiar pattern until Eiffel gets strung up by one leg. 

It was a simple mistake, he hadn’t noticed the trip wire when he was walking to Hilbert’s office. He’d gotten complacent, thinking that the last hallway would be clear of traps like they’d always been but he’s not really worried about it, grateful that hes in good enough shape to reach up and start sawing at the rope. What he doesn’t think about is the angle that he’s being held and the angle he’ll hit the ground. When he saws through the last bit of rope he falls sideways, and ends up knocking himself out when he slams his head onto the floor. He wakes up just a moment later, his head pounding and shoulder aching, and retches. He groans, vision spinning, but when he looks up next he’s like 90% sure that Hilbert is crouching next to him, muttering something in Russian under his breath. The next thing he knows hes being picked up with surprising gentleness, but he can’t help whining about how much his head hurts when he moves. He hears and feels Hilbert sigh as hes carried to his office, and its only when he opens his eyes next that he realizes hes laying down in a strange room. His head still throbs like crazy, but he can see Hilbert sitting on the edge of the bed he’s in. Hilbert gently touches his cheek, shining a light into his eyes and carefully checking the cut on his forehead. “Eiffel, how many fingers am I holding up?” “Uhhh, seven..?” Hilbert makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat before standing and walking out of sight. He comes back with his hands full, laying his items out on a table next to the bed. “Doc, why does my head hurt so much..?” Hilbert glances at him, noting something about Eiffel’s expression and looking briefly concerned before grabbing some object. “You have concussion. You will need monitoring overnight. Take this.” He holds out three small pills, watching Eiffel closely. When he sees Eiffel hesitate, he sighs. “Is not evil science thing, merely advil. If I wanted to you could be dead right now, so please. Take painkillers so I can clean head wound.” Eiffel gives in, taking them, and Hilbert looks approvingly at him before examining his forehead. “You will need stitches, will not be pleasant. Try not to squirm.” He brushes Eiffel’s hair out of his face before using an alcohol swab to clean out the cut. Eiffel spasms, grabbing at Hilbert’s arm in a death grip from the sudden pain. Hilbert doesn’t stop him though, letting him dig his nails into his arm until he can breathe again. Its only when he sees Eiffel relax that he gently pulls his hands off his arm, giving him a moment to recover entirely before applying a topical anesthetic. He makes quick work of the stitches and is wrapping a bandage around Eiffel’s head when Eiffel speaks up. “How come you’re doing this? Didn’t you like want me dead a couple of months ago?” Hilbert doesn’t appear surprised by the question, but he stays quiet until he’s done bandaging. “I am enjoying our game too much, would hate to have you lose so soon.” He stands, obviously done talking, and is cleaning up when he sees that Eiffel is watching him. “What now, Eiffel?” Eiffel stares at the ceiling for a second, then glances at him before staring at the ceiling again. Hes fidgeting under Hilbert’s impatient glare before blurting out, “Thanks for helping me.” Whatever Hilbert expected him to say, its obviously not that. His expression is such blatant shock that Eiffel can’t help but look at him, and he struggles not to laugh when Hilbert looks embarrassed, rubbing his hand through his hair and avoiding Eiffel’s gaze before turning around and muttering something. Eiffel won’t let this new Hilbert escape quite yet, not without teasing him first. He’ll blame it on the concussion later, but for right now he’s kind of giddy. “Oh, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Hilbert tenses a little, and unless its Eiffel’s imagination the back of his neck is a little red. He can hear Hilbert say, just a little louder this time, “You’re welcome,” but unrelentingly feigns ignorance. “One more time? This concussion must be making it hard for me to hear.” Hilbert glares at him over his shoulder, and when he sees Eiffel’s grin he growls in irritation. “I said go to sleep, annoying man.” He stalks out of the room but is careful not to close the door too hard, and Eiffel falls asleep grinning.


	3. Chapter 3

Hilbert had just gotten fully absorbed into his work when Eiffel wakes up, blinking slowly and with his lips parted like he is seconds away from saying something. Eiffel looks confused at first, then suddenly terrified before seeming to remember what happened. He relaxes slowly, unclenching his hands, and waits for his panicked breathing to return to normal before looking over at Hilbert sitting in a chair next to his bed. “Heyyy, Hilby. How long have I been out?” Hilbert hides his concern easily, his demeanor deadpan. “Not long enough, was enjoying quiet. Now I am sure you will be eager to be annoying again, but you will have to wait.” Eiffel grins at the jab, looking at him with exaggerated disbelief. “Hilbert! Was that a, dare I even say it, joke? It was almost funny!” “Clearly brain damage is more extensive that I realized.” Eiffel laughs, wincing a little but still obviously enjoying himself. “Two in a row! My God, man, you’re on a roll! What next, a real genuine smile? I find out that you have ten cats?” Hilbert’s expression changes infinitesimally, and Eiffel looks astonished. “You actually have ten cats?? Oh, my God. You’re a Crazy Cat Comrade.” Hilbert frowns, crossing his arms, and says almost defensively “Niet, not ten. I have A cat, her name is Sascha. And so what I like cats, don’t tell me that you are some bizarre person who does not like them. They are great, very independent, they take care of themselves, they do not need my assistance to survive. I enjoy that.” “Doc, those reasons are all the same.” Hilbert frowns even more at Eiffel’s choked laughter. “Aww, come on! Don’t be like that! I’m sick and needy, I have a concussion! So you like cats, you have a cat named Sascha, you DO have a sense of humor, and you like things that aren’t your responsibility.” Eiffel counts on his fingers, before holding up four fingers on his hand. “Thats four things that make you a real boy, Pinocchio! Just one more and you’ve got a solid five outta ten, what else ya got? Come on, I doubt you want me asking you every five minutes until you give in- you will give in inevitably, everyone does- so tell me! Whats your favorite kind of music? Whats your opinion on dogs? Do you have a favorite color? Can you even SEE in color? What percent cyborg are you? Can you feel pain? Do you wat-” Hilbert covers Eiffel’s mouth in exasperation, rubbing his eyes with his other hand like he can feel a headache coming on. “I like classical, before you ask favorite song is Caprice no. 24. I do NOT like dogs, they are annoying. Reminds me of someone. I like the color green. Da, I can see in color, idiot man. Now, go to sleep.” He removes his hand from Eiffel’s mouth warily, watching him closely for the first sign of more talking. He wonders if its too late to smother him with a pillow, and apparently Eiffel sees something in his expression that shuts him up quickly. He hands him more advil before turning and going back to his work. As Eiffel tries to go back to sleep, he realizes that Hilbert avoided the last two questions. He’d bother him about it the next time he woke up. 

While Eiffel sleeps, Hilbert feels restless and irritated, getting up from his chair and walking into his office. He spends the next ten hours organizing everything within, taking out his frustration on his papers and books. Afterwards he paces, his mind working furiously, before letting out a long sigh and leaving. When Eiffel wakes up after what feels like a decade, Hilbert is not in the room. He tries to sit up, but the movement turns his stomach and he gags. He dry heaves into a garbage can by the bed, before staggering to his feet and using the wall as support. It takes an eternity, but he slowly makes his way to the door and sees what may be the best and weirdest thing he’s ever seen. Hilbert, stoic Hilbert, is talking to the fluffiest white cat in existence like it understands. “Нет, саша, я не думаю, что он тебе понравится. Он глупый человек, которого, я думаю, ненавидит кошек. Что странно, потому что он должен по крайней мере нравиться вам.” The cat is staring at Hilbert, tail flicking idly, as he scratches her under the chin. “Как я могу любить человека, который ненавидит кошек? Глупо от меня, не так ли?” He looks almost sad for a moment before noticing Eiffel and the expression changes entirely. Eiffel’s beginning to recognize concern on Hilbert’s face, cause he’s been seeing it a lot lately. “I’m fine, Hilbert. You should be more concerned about me wasting away entirely while languishing in bed, look at me!” He gestures to himself, “I’m skin and bones!” “You have been asleep for one day. I doubt you will die anytime soon from starvation, atleast. I may change mind and kill you if you open stitches. Sit.” Hilbert gets up and firmly sits Eiffel in the chair he was sitting in, leaning against the desk and watching him like a hawk. Eiffel feels nervous for some reason, and points at the cat. “So I’m guessing this is Sascha?” Hilbert’s gaze doesn’t move, but he does relax slightly. “Da, is Sascha. If you say anything about her I will actually kill you, so choose next words carefully, Eiffel.” Eiffel looks momentarily scared until he sees the expression on Hilbert’s face is the same as when he was joking earlier. “Geez, I was just gonna say she’s gorgeous and she knows it, doesn’t she?” Eiffel grins at the cat and brightens when she deigns to jump into his lap, purring. “She knows a cat lover when she sees one, doesn’t she? Whose a pretty kitty?” Hilbert mutters the word “Traitor” under his breath before straightening. Eiffel is completely oblivious to him until he snaps his fingers in front of his face and he looks up, startled. “You have appetite, yes?” He’s confused for a moment before nodding and then he launches into whining about his head hurting. “Hilbeeert, why didn’t you stop meee. Is this what dying feels like? I think I’m dying. Tell Sascha that I loved her, and tell Hera that the money is buried in Roanoke!” He melodramatically exclaims, gazing off into the distance like he can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Hilbert pointedly ignores his dramatics, pressing a button on a buzzer near the door that Eiffel never paid attention to. Moments later a young woman, close to Eiffel’s age, walks in carrying a tray of food and Eiffel begins proclaiming his undying love for her. She blushes sweetly and fawns under his attentions until Hilbert motions for her to leave. “Please do not flirt with workers. They are easily wooed.” Eiffel laughs at Hilbert’s expression before sobering quickly. “Hey, Hilbert. You never answered my question from the other day. So, can you feel pain?” Hilbert stiffens, looking uncomfortable before hiding his expression under his usual blank look. He lifts up the edge of his shirt and shows Eiffel a recent scar. “That is from you, and your pocket knife.” He points at a larger scar, one that goes from his hip to his ribs on his left side. “That is from Kremlin, parting gift when I defected. They were not happy, nearly died.” He casually rolls up his sleeves, showing burn scars on the back of his arms and one long scar going up his right arm and past his elbow, the rest hidden by his shirt. “Catastrophic failure in crucible, it exploded. Shrapnel nearly took off my arm. Every time, hurt like hell. There are more scars than I can count, little ones from broken glass and big ones from…other things. But da, I feel pain. I am not unfeeling monster. Am still monster, but I can feel.” Hilbert sighs, rolling down his sleeves and Eiffel speaks after a long moment, looking at Hilbert curiously. “You know, I read your files. I saw everything you’ve done under every name you go by.” Hilbert avoids looking at him, as still as a statue. “I used to be in the military, did you know that? While I was in we had to do a lot of terrible things. We had to leave whole towns to the mercy of horrible people, knowing that when we left we would be responsible for them dying. You’ve, what, killed six people in your life? Three were due to a failure in your lab, I’m gonna guess it was when the crucible exploded. Two were during your human trials in Russia, and based off of their files they were both murderers and on death row. So that leaves one, and they attacked you first. Sooo, last time I checked I had a higher tally than you did just while I was in the military. Thats not mentioning the numbers from my job now. If we’re going off of that, then I call dibs on being the biggest monster.” Hilbert looks at him in astonishment, like he can’t believe that Eiffel would say anything like that. 

After a moment, he turns away and clears his throat. “Thank you, Eiffel. That is unnecessarily kind of you to say. But I think you forget that you came close to being number 7.” He leaves without another word and Eiffel sits there for a long time, watching the door that Hilbert left from while waiting for him to come back. When he hears gunshots he jumps to his feet, rushing to the door only to nearly get knocked over by Minkovski. “Eiffel, oh thank God you’re alright! What has that piece of shit done to you, you look terrible! What happened to your head?!” She dithers over him until he impatiently slaps at her hands, “I’m fine, I’m fine! Minkowski, I got a concussion and hes been taking care of me, its not his fault. Well, its kind of his fault but its complicated!” Minkowski looks surprised, but doesn’t question Eiffel’s strange outburst. “Well, regardless, you’ve been here for two days. We had to find out from Hera of all people that you’ve been breaking in here every day for weeks now! What the hell were you thinking?!” Eiffel tries to get past her, impatient, and she stops him. He groans in frustration and says rapidly, “We made a deal, okay? If I could break into his office then I could get more intel. Every time I tried though there would be new traps to catch me in. Sometimes I would make it, sometimes I wouldn’t. The last time I tried I got caught by one foot and when I cut myself down I hit my head, he’s been taking care of me since. He coulda killed me, Minkowski, but he didn’t, so please make sure that you don’t kill him! We’ve just started bonding!” Minkovski hesitates momentarily before relaying the new command. “Rescind kill, subdue only.” Eiffel feels panic welling up when he hears Agent Lovelace’s voice over the radio in response “Aw man, we already shot him. Are you sure?” Minkovski snaps at the question. “Of course I’m sure, Agent! Either subdue him or leave, but do not question my orders again” Lovelace’s voice is more subdued but still annoyed. “Fiiine, target subdued. Calling in Medical now.” Minkovski looks at Eiffel and puts a hand on his chest. “There, now lets get you back to HQ and we can both speak to Hilbert in person.” The drive to HQ is tense, Eiffel tapping his foot impatiently every time they get to a red light. Minkovski is irritated in turn, especially since he doesn’t even notice how worried they’ve all been. Apparently all he cares about right now is making sure the guy who almost killed him is okay. When they arrive Eiffel doesn’t even wait for the car to stop before jumping out. He runs to the Medical Bay and doubles over in relief when he sees Hilbert’s annoyed face over the head of a doctor whose arguing with him. From what Eiffel can tell Hilbert is giving as good as he gets because the other doctor leaves him sitting on the exam bed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. The doctor spots Eiffel first, and rushes over to him. “Agent Eiffel, what on Earth happened to you? A concussion, I’m guessing?” Eiffel nods, slipping around the smaller man and into the Medical Bay where he’s doggedly followed. “Yeah, I had a concussion and I’m totally fine, been bedresting it up but really shouldn’t you be more worried about the guy BLEEDING ON YOUR EXAM TABLE?!” The doctor looks irritated, “Well, I would be if he wasn’t insisting he was fine! He has a gunshot wound! Its missed anything important but still, I’d like to at least examine it!” Hilbert grumbles, avoiding meeting Eiffel’s stern look and glares at the doctor. “As I have told you, I can take care of it myself. Really, have done so before. Is no problem so please, leave me be.” Eiffel can’t help but feel irritated and before he knows it hes shouting at them both. “I was worried about you all the way here you stupid Russian and I swear to whatever deity you believe in that if the both of you don’t make up and play nice I will PERSONALLY SHOOT YOU BOTH. MULTIPLE TIMES. AND THEN MAKE YOU FIX IT.” He stomps his foot for emphasis and when he catches his breath he sees both men staring at him in surprise. After they realize hes glaring at them they quickly come to a silent agreement. 

The doctor ushers Eiffel out of the exam room claiming that he needs to concentrate and Eiffel’s yelling was distracting before closing the door and locking it to keep Eiffel out. Eiffel wastes no time in listening at the door, annoyed, and hears snippets of their conversation. “Oh…I see….totally understand….don’t blame you for being….need anything for it? Niet, is fine… have supplies at home.” He can’t deal with the suspense, especially not when it contains another secret Hilbert is hiding. He briefly thinks about the consequences before shrugging and ambushing the doctor when he steps out the door. Ignoring his pleas to stop he slips into the room only to be walloped in the face by something damp and really heavy. “Get. Out.” Eiffel’s never heard Hilbert so angry before but he’s just as mad. “Nope, and what the hell is t-” As he untangles himself from whatever is covering his head he realizes it’s Hilbert’s lab coat. The left side has a hole near the bottom and blood has soaked it pretty thoroughly. “Oh hell, Hilbert are you okay?!” He looks up, and realizes that Hilbert is standing behind the exam table and effectively hiding where hes been shot. “I am fine. Get out, Eiffel, please. Give me privacy!” Hilbert looks anxious, and the expression intensifies when Minkovski bursts into the room. “Eiffel, there you are. And Doctor Hilbert too. Good. Hilbert, you’re going to come with me right now.” Hilbert looks stricken and stays where he is. “Only if Eiffel leaves first.” Minkovski strides towards him, impatient, but stops suddenly and looks down when she gets to the other side of the exam table. “Ohhh. Eiffel, get out.” “WHAT?! LIKE HELL I AM!“ Eiffel’s voice cracks in indignation but his frustration fades when he sees how humiliated Hilbert looks. He stomps out of the room, tapping his foot in impatience until Hilbert limps out with Minkovski of all people supporting him. Eiffel moves to help him only to get a glare from Minkovski which, frankly, stings. He follows them, muttering under his breath about how unfair this is, and pouts the whole time on the way to Minkovski’s office. She helps Hilbert sit before perching on her desk and glaring at Eiffel. "Quit pouting Eiffel. Not everyone finds your dogged perseverance endearing. Now, Hilbert. We’ve made a bit of a mess here. Not only do you know, officially, know that we’ve been monitoring you, but now Cutter knows too. So we can’t actually let you out of our custody until we’re sure he’s not going to kill you.” The only thing that gives away Hilbert’s nerves is the way hes avoiding looking at either of them. “Why care? Am I not someone you view as ‘bad?’ Would it not be easier to let Cutter take me out?” Eiffel opens mouth for a furious retort only to get cut off by Minkovski. “We care because not only are you the only person we’ve had that is under Cutter’s direct command, but also because we aren’t the kind of assholes to send a kind of decent guy to die just because we fucked up. After all, you never actually tried to kill Eiffel except for that first time, not that we blame you. Everyone wants to kill Eiffel. Its been pretty obvious given how generous you’ve been with info about yours and Cutter’s dealings that theres no love lost between you, so we’re going to pick your brain and in exchange you’ll not die. Deal?” Hilbert eyes Minkovski, suspicious. “I have stipulations. First, you provide me what I need for my.. situation. Second, you allow me to keep Sascha with me, I do not trust you people. Third, you keep my secrets or you get nothing. Deal?” Minkovski nods, shaking his hand before asking in confusion, “Who the hell is Sascha?” “My cat.” She looks bemused, then suddenly cracks up. “Oh man, you are the exact opposite of what I thought you were gonna be. Yeah, I’ll send Eiffel to get your cat and your supplies.” “Not. Eiffel. Send someone else.” Minkovski shakes her head, leaning back. “No can do. Eiffel knows better than anyone what your lab is like, and he has the benefit of knowing where your things are. Eiffels the only guy we can send.” Eiffel speaks up since the first time he walked in. “Fine. If either of you secretive assholes need me, I’ll be looking for a cat and some fuckin’ secret knick-knacks for Hilbert’s big scary thing.” He stomps off, clearly pouting, and yells for someone to drive him back to Hilbert’s lab. 

Minkovski sighs as he leaves, looking at Hilbert for a long moment before saying anything. “He was very worried about you, you know. I’m sure you’re already aware, but Eiffel’s like an annoying and overly affectionate dog. He’s up your ass half the time, but he’ll go through hell and back to help someone.” “I am aware. I am just…,” he covers his face with his hands, “..I am not good with other people. I have spent much of my life in solitude, and have had trouble understanding why Eiffel bothers. He is baffling.” Minkovski nods, standing up, “Yeah, he is. He has a habit of picking up strays. He’s a decent judge of character though, which is the whole reason I called off the order to shoot to kill.” Hilbert gets up, stiffly, and Minkovski offers her arm again. “Come on, I’ll show you were you’ll be staying.” Meanwhile, Eiffel is trying to catch Sascha who isn’t cooperating. While he’s trying to catch her the Agent who drove him is picking gathering the things that Hilbert requested. It isn’t until he’s finally cornered Sascha and wrestled her into a pet carrier that he starts being nosy. The Agent is grabbing what looks like a tool kit and a big box that rattles when it moves, and Eiffel cannot fathom for the life of him what its for. They return to HQ and Eiffel is taken to Hilbert’s temporary accommodations which aren't bad, he thinks to himself as he sets a pissed-off Sascha on the counter, putting aside the pet carrier. “Don’t talk to me like that. You were the one who had to be difficult, not me. I told you that you could ride in my lap but noooo, you just had to scratch me.” The other Agent walks farther into the apartment, speaking to Hilbert who is out of sight. “Let us over at R and D know if you need anything specific, alright?” “Thank you, will keep that in mind.” Eiffel grabs Sascha and storms into the room with her hissing and trying to scratch him. “Do you see this hellion?! She attacked me!” Hilbert is sitting in a cheap-looking loveseat with his left ankle propped onto his right knee. When he sees Eiffel makes a quick motion that Eiffel can’t make heads or tails of, before making a rubbing gesture at him. Sascha jumps down at the gesture and hops into his lap purring madly, looking at Eiffel with disgust. “Did the stupid American hurt you, Sascha?” Eiffel looks indignant but catches the slight smile on Hilbert’s face and lets it go. He sits down on the floor in front of him, cross-legged, and tries to get him to notice how much hes pouting right now. Hilbert ignores him, pretending not to see him at all while struggling to keep from laughing at the ridiculous look on Eiffel’s face. “I am not going to read you a story, Eiffel, if that is what you are pouting over,” he says after a while. “What is it that you’re hiding from me, Hilbert? Why let other people know but not me?” Hilbert looks away from the hurt look on Eiffel’s face and Eiffel notices that hes fidgeting, the first time that hes really shown how nervous he is. “Was not choice, would much rather no one would know. I suppose you will not let me be until you know, da?” He sighs, still avoiding looking at Eiffel, and rolls up his left pant leg. It takes Eiffel a moment to process what he’s seeing, and he realizes that from the knee down Hilbert has a prosthetic leg. Its advanced, close enough to the real thing to function well but its clearly a poor substitute. Theres a quarter-sized hole through it, and he can see chewed up electronic components inside. He looks at Hilbert, who staring at the ground with his head turned away, and uses this opportunity to very carefully touch it. Hilbert jumps like he’s been shocked and looks at Eiffel in surprise, who looks absolutely delighted. “You felt that?” “Of course I felt that, quit it! Is very delicate piece of machinery, not toy!” Eiffel laughs and gently grabs his ankle to look at it closely, ignoring Hilbert’s stammered protests and knocking away his hands when he tries to stop his inspection. “Man, this thing is somethin’ beautiful. Did you build this? Its amazing. Hey, can you feel this? How about this? Or this?” Each question is matched with a soft poke or touch in random places, its clear that Eiffel is completely oblivious to anything other than his own curiosity. Finally Hilbert just covers his face with his hands, mortified, and tries to ignore Eiffel’s excited questioning. “Hey, Hilbert. Hilbert, are you ticklish?” This gets a rise out of him, especially when Eiffel tries to tickle him. “Niet, am not ticklish. Quit!” He slaps Eiffel’s hands away and quickly puts his feet up on the chair and out of reach of Eiffel, wrapping his arms around his legs. Eiffel finally notices how flustered Hilbert is and briefly feels guilty before giving in to delight again. “That is the coolest freakin’ thing I have ever seen in my life. Why would you be so embarrassed?” Hilbert glares at him, still red faced, over his knees. “Am not embarrassed. Was merely uncomfortable. Are you going to stay here all night and bother me, or will you let me relax?” Eiffel suddenly looks mischievous, his voice suggestive. “Is staying the night an option, Alexander?” It was so worth it, he thinks as he runs out of the room while trying to avoid the random tools being thrown at him by Hilbert. His face made it sooooo worth it. Hes still grinning when he gets home that night, thinking about how he’s going to fluster Hilbert tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Eiffel feels just a bit bad for for being so cheerful when he bangs on Hilbert’s door at 5 a.m. the morning after Hilbert is moved into HQ. “Hilbert! Hilbert! Hey, Hilbert! Let me in!” He’s grinning maliciously when Hilbert opens the door and looks at him, clearly not a morning person. His hair is even more of a mess than usual, his glasses are crooked, hes in baggy sleeping pants and a t-shirt, and Eiffel is totally smitten. “Good moooorning! How’d you sleep? Good? Good! Minkowski says that you’ll have until 7 p.m. to work on your own stuff before she calls you in for debrief, and she wants someone to keep an eye on you until then just in case Cutter has some nastiness planned for you. And guess who that someone is?!” Eiffel is literally bouncing with glee, his grin even wider than it was before. Hilbert blinks at him, and its clear that hes having trouble following what Eiffel is saying this early in the morning. Eiffel has to contain himself at the totally open expression on Hilbert’s face, which is of affectionate exasperation. Its clear that he knows Eiffel is being annoying, and finds it endearing, while trying to slowly translate what he actually said. The whole moment takes less than a minute before Hilbert wordlessly moves aside to let Eiffel in. Sascha looks at him from Hilbert’s bed, the door having been left open in Hilbert’s obvious anticipation of going back to sleep. “I won’t keep you up if you want t-” Hilbert doesn’t even hesitate, limping back to bed while gesturing vaguely to the kitchen. Eiffel takes that as a “make yourself at home” gesture and makes himself some coffee. 

Its 11:59 a.m. before Hilbert emerges from his room, his hair wet and clothes changed. “Oh, you are actually here. Thought was nightmare, must be too much to hope for full day of solitude.” Eiffel grins at him over his third cup of coffee. “You bet your sweet ass I’m still here, me and you get to spend the whole day together!” Hilbert looks at him, his head tilted a little as he tries to figure out what the hell ‘sweet ass’ translates to in Russian before giving up. He shrugs it off, grabbing himself a cup of coffee that he immediately downs before refilling it. “So, you are guard dog today? Very well, but I do have request. I need to fix my leg today, cannot delay. It is very intensive process, need full attention. You will have to entertain yourself.” Eiffel sighs dramatically but doesn’t argue. Hilbert grabs the tool kit he requested and box of metal pieces and sits at the kitchen table, checking each to make sure they’re undamaged. Eiffel watches him for a while, then gets bored and looks at some of the books he brought with him. He looks up when he sees Hilbert roll up his pants leg and lay his ankle on his knee, obviously about to start working. He removes the broken shell around the inner workings, painstakingly disconnecting every synthetic nerve he has running through the entire system. After that, he turns his head to the wall and twists the uppermost part quickly and roughly. Eiffel can see him shudder briefly, just holding it in his hand for a moment while catching his breath. He shifts his leg so his foot is back on the ground, looking at it in trepidation before pulling the prosthetic off entirely. Eiffel notices that where his leg meets his prosthetic the skin is scarred and red just above the locking mechanism that is surgically installed. Hilbert doesn’t make a sound, but he does lay his head on the table long enough to worry Eiffel. He jumps up, reaching out to lay a hand on Hilbert’s back and jerking his hand away when he feels him jump. He looks at Eiffel, seemingly surprised to see him, and his voice is rough when he talks after a moment. “Ah, you were so quiet I forget you were here. I am fine, merely uncomfortable.” Eiffel thinks that 'merely uncomfortable' is gross understatement, especially when he sees how red Hilbert’s eyes are, but leaves him be. He decides to sit at the table across from him, however, just to make himself feel better. 

Hilbert waits for his hands to shake less before placing his prosthetic on the table and getting to work, ignoring Eiffel completely. The look of focus on his face is adorable to Eiffel, so he watches him work for hours with no regret. When his stomach complains after an indeterminate amount of time, he finally looks away from Hilbert’s work and sees that its just a little past 5 p.m. “Geez, Hilbert, its already 5 o'clock!” Eiffel walks to the fridge, rifling through the scant options in disdain. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back okay? Try not to miss me too much.” Hilbert doesn’t even look up, but speaks over his shoulder at Eiffel. “Impossible, you are too annoying to miss.” Eiffel chuckles to himself as he leaves, hunting down a secretary and requesting 'literally as much food as you can carry’ before heading back into the room. Hilbert appears relieved when he sees him. “Good, you’re back. I need help with something, will be a little unpleasant but would rather have help since I have gunshot in same leg as prosthetic.” Eiffel doesn’t even bat an eye, walking over to see what Hilbert needs. Hilbert has finished his repairs, clearly, but he hasn’t put it back on yet. “I need you to help me reattach prosthetic, unless you have weak stomach and would rather not.” “Me? Weak stomach? Never. This guy right here has a gut of iron.” He pats his stomach for emphasis, “Of course I’ll help, Hilbert, what do I have to do?” Hilbert pauses, trying to find the best way to explain it. “Is like… trying to fit foot into boot. You have to slip this locking mechanism into the slot here,” He points at the respective parts as he explains, gesturing with his hands as he describes how to lock it, “then twist as hard as you can to lock it in. As I said, will not be pleasant, so please be quick about it.” 

He stands uncertainly, one hand on the table and the other on Eiffel’s shoulder to help him balance. Eiffel is not at all pleased with the circumstances under which Hilbert is touching him, but he’ll take what he can get. He looks up at him, making sure that hes prepared, before slipping mechanism in and twisting it as hard as he can. Hilbert gasps, nearly doubling over in pain, and Eiffel quickly stands up and wraps his arms around his waist to hold him steady. He leans his head against Eiffel’s shoulder while shuddering in pain as Eiffel rubs his back and speaks softly. “Hey, its all done. You’re finished, its okay. You’re alright, Alexander.” Hilbert nods as if to reassure himself before slowly putting his weight back on his leg, never moving far enough away that Eiffel can’t keep his arms around him. Hilbert’s face is pale and tears are in his eyes as he clenches his teeth to keep from making a sound. Eiffel doesn’t even think about it, he pulls him in close and hugs him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder and muttering an apology for hurting him. Hilbert freezes up, taken aback, before letting out a wet laugh and gently patting him on the back. “Eiffel-” Eiffel says something, but its muffled by Hilbert’s shirt. “What?” He moves his head slightly so his mouth is uncovered and speaks very quietly. “Douglas, my name is Douglas. Not Eiffel.” Hilbert sighs a little, more out of fondness than exasperation. “Fine then. Douglas, I am fine. Look, pain has already passed. I still need to reconnect nerve endings in leg before we go speak with Minkovski, otherwise I could accidentally damage prosthetic without knowing. If it would make you feel better, do you want to sit next to me?” Eiffel nods, reluctantly letting go of him, and moves a chair beside Hilbert’s before he can change his mind. Hilbert sits down carefully and props his ankle on his knee as he did before. Eiffel notices that the area where his flesh meets metal is broken open in some places and bleeding sluggishly as Hilbert gets to work reconnecting the nerves. He finishes the process quickly, flinching a little each time a nerve is connected, and starts to stand only to discover Eiffel’s hand on his right thigh holding him down. “Stay. If I come back and find out you moved I’m gonna… well, I’ll think of what I’ll do later but for right now you’re gonna sit right here. Capiche?” Hilbert looks at him with amusement. “Da, I will stay here, but only because you ask so nicely.” 

When Eiffel comes back with a first aid kit he looks confused before looking at his leg and realizing what the problem is. “Ah, Eif-” “Doug.” “Douglas, this is nothing. It is like paper cut, doesn’t even hurt.” “Paper cuts hurt! A lot! And like hell its nothing, you’re bleeding all over the rug!” He sits down in front of Hilbert, crossing his legs around Hilbert’s to keep him trapped in one place. Hilbert looks aggravated, and starts to argue before Eiffel very carefully touches the spot where his leg meets his prosthetic. He jumps, trying to move away, but Eiffel’s got him right where he wants him. He’s exceedingly gentle, carefully cleaning the wound and wrapping it up before looking satisfied. He looks at Hilbert, who looks at the wall the moment their eyes meet, his face flushed and his glasses a little cloudy. “Alexander?” Hilbert glances at him before trying and failing to move away. “Whats the matter? You’re suuuuper red right now, you feelin’ alright? Why are you so jumpy?” He puts on hand on Hilbert’s leg and watches Hilbert squirm, his face flushed. “My leg is very sensitive to touch and you are not helping situation so if you are finished we are late.” Eiffel grins, realizing just what he means by 'sensitive’ but decides to push his luck by gently kissing the bandages. Hilbert strangled yelp is adorable, he thinks, and any punishment that comes later is totally worth it as he grins at him innocently. “There, I kissed and made it better. Now we can leave.” Hilbert plots out ways to kill Eiffel on the way to Minkovski’s office, still furiously red. Minkovski looks up when she hears the door to her office open and lets out a snort of laughter when she sees the state Eiffel and Hilbert are in. Hilbert looks like hes about to drop dead from embarrassment and Eiffel is beaming mischievously, as always. “There you are! You’re a little early but thats fine, especially since it means Eiffel isn’t late for the first time in his life.” He looks offended momentarily before nodding in agreement at the truth of it. “Before we start, I wanted to let you both know that Eiffel will be permanently assigned to you, Doctor. Word just came a few minutes ago about it, so you were just in time.” There was no such thing, she was just planning to do it based on whoever was available but Minkovski decides to make it official at the look of glee on Eiffel’s face and the look of resignation Hilbert’s. “Anyway, moving on. As I told you before, Hilbert, you’ll be helping us help you by providing us with information about Cutter’s activities. Whatcha got?” Hilbert looks at her for a moment before saying dryly, “You will want to sit down.” He takes a seat himself before launching into a detailed description of Cutter’s plans. “Cutter has been building series of bombs, courtesy of Daniel Jacobi, that are currently designed to detonated at 50,000 miles above sea level. These bombs carry vials of a virus I have created that will cause many deaths, primarily through tuberculosis-like symptoms. The coughing and blood exposure will help it to spread rapidly. He is selling these bombs to any country that will buy one, promising to give them vaccine so they will survive the initial detonation. In reality, he is amassing a horde of the vaccine so he can sell them at exorbitant prices to anyone who can afford them. As of this moment, there is only one virologist capable of synthesizing both the disease and vaccine, and that would be me. Cutter made it very clear that suicide would be only option to avoid working for him, which is why I have been trying get rid of him.” 

Minkovski and Eiffel both look at him in horror, and he feels something in him crack at the look on Eiffel’s face. “I have been feeding information through Agent Eiffel in order to accelerate his removal from society. This is what has been going on, you can find everything you need in my documents. If you need nothing else from me I will be in my quarters.” He gets up and leaves without another word, and he tells himself that he was an idiot for believing anything other than what he knows to be true. He has been helping a terrible man kill people. He has done it even though he could have killed himself and stopped this man’s plans, making him an accomplice to every terrible thing that has occurred since he was hired. Regardless of what he has tried to do to stop it, he had an option that he had been too proud- too scared- to take. He goes back to his quarters alone, ignoring the food on the kitchen table and going to sleep. He wakes up at his usual late hour, and tries to tell himself that he’s okay with Eiffel not being there, waiting for him to get up. He spends two days in his rooms, not leaving them and barely doing anything more than sleep and take care of Sascha, when theres a banging on the door early one morning. He gets up with a groan, opening the door a crack to see who it is. Theres only one person who is this energetic this early, and even though he’s surprised to see him he figures it must be time for him to leave HQ. He steps aside for Eiffel to come in, closing the door behind him, and looks at him expectantly. “What is it, Agent?” Eiffel looks stung momentarily before showing him a document in his hands that he hadn’t noticed. The title reads, “Arrest of Goddard Enterprises CEO shocks STEM community under rumors of terrorist plot.” Hilbert looks surprised, then resigned. “I see. Give me a moment to get my things together, and then we can leave.” He turns to walk off, stopping when Eiffel grabs his shoulder. “Wait, what do you mean leave? This is your home now. Or you could co…” His voice trails off, and he looks embarrassed at Hilbert’s confusion. “What do you mean, this is my home now? I thought this meant that I would arrested, I have been accomplice to Cutter’s plot. And I could what?” Eiffel looks at the ceiling, addressing it instead of Hilbert. “Wellll, you kind of are under arrest. House arrest, specifically. Its a special request from Minkowski, given that you promise not to work for any other organization except the Agency. They were okay with it since Cutter made you work for him under duress so it was really easy to get the stamp of approval. And you do have options on where you want to live. Two, actually. Here and… um..” he clears his throat, then blurts out, “or my place if you wanted to.” His voice cracks, and he powers on, “But I totally get it if you’d rather stay here I mean you’ve never really said whether you liked spending time with me or anything and moving into a place with someone is a bit much if you hate them but if you wanted to I’d be really excited to have you, and Sascha of course…” he trails off at the look on Hilbert’s face. He looks utterly taken aback by this change in events, and says quietly, “But I thought I disgusted you. When I told you what happened both you and Minkovski were horrified, I could see it in your faces. So why would you want me in your home?” Eiffel gives up any attempt at pretense, throwing his hands up in exasperation, grabbing Hilbert by the collar of his jacket and kissing him thoroughly. “You do not horrify to me, because I’m completely crazy about you. I have been hitting on you for months now. I even kissed your leg and you didn’t pick up on that?! God, you’re oblivious. And adorable, and grumpy, and handsome, and I really, really like you. All of you. Even the irritable bits. And the metal bits. Alexander, if I’m not being clear enough: I love you. Please move in with me and your cat.” Hilbert holds onto Eiffel for support, his heart pounding, clearly at a loss for words. “…Oh.” Eiffel looks mortified, taking his silent shock as a rejection and lets him go quickly, babbling out an apology and turning to leave as fast as he possibly can just before being yanked back and suddenly Hilbert is kissing him. He could die happily on the spot, he thinks, pulling him as close as possible. The only thing that makes it better is the dazed, flushed look on Hilbert’s face when he pulls apart to catch his breath. “Soo, I’m gonna interpret that as a 'Yes, Douglas, I would love to move in with you and my cat because I really, really like you too?’” “That would be accurate.” “Come on, you gotta say it too or I’m not helping you pack.” “Fine. Yes, Douglas, I would love to move in with you and my cat because I really, really like you too.” He says it in a monotone, but the way he looks embarrassed makes it perfect to Eiffel. “Ah, wait. Douglas, I do not have anything to pack other than change of clothes.” “I know.” “You are bad person.” “You love it.” He grumbles, walking into his room to pack up what little clothes he has, and Eiffel follows after him, determined to make him say, “I love you,” before they leave by any means necessary.


End file.
